Shattered
by Butterfly5
Summary: Sometimes it takes a tragedy to put things in perspective. Angst with some HarryHermione fluff, what more could you want? Post a review and I'll give you a cookie. After nearly a two year absence, I've finally finished it!
1. All These Thoughts

Author's Note: I have noticed that a lot of people are having trouble getting their quotations marks and apostrophes to show up correctly. I am also having this problem. Hmmm, well, I hope it gets resolved pretty soon. For the time being, little stars (ahhh, I have no idea what they are called) will replace the quotation marks and apostrophes. I know that it is annoying, but please bear with me.  
  
Chapter One  
  
All These Thoughts  
  
Harry stared down at Ron*s pale face. *You never wore a suit in your entire life,* Harry thought, as if Ron could hear him. It was almost funny to see Ron lying there so stiffly, dressed up in a tuxedo with his hair neatly parted. Almost.  
  
Harry sighed. At least the bullet wound was well concealed. He touched his childhood friend*s hand, then walked to the other side of the room to offer his condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley nodded his thanks and shook Harry*s hand without really looking at him, and Mrs. Weasley hugged him tightly, grieved beyond tears.  
  
More mourners started to arrive. Many of them were Harry*s classmates from his Hogwarts days. Usually they would have flocked towards Harry, pestering him with questions about his brave defeat of Voldemort, but today they hardly seemed to notice him. The tone in the air was one of sadness, but also of regret, regret that they had lost touch with Ron, as Harry himself had.  
  
The room was growing warm because of the amount of bodies that were being crammed into the tiny space. Harry decided to get some fresh air, so he went out the back door and leaned against the wall. There were so many thoughts flying through his mind that he was giving himself a headache.  
  
It was almost as hot outside as it was in the tiny room. Harry looked up at the sky and was disgusted to see that it was a lovely shade of blue, cloudless, and that the sun was bathing everything in golden light. It didn*t seem right that the day before Ron*s funeral should be beautiful. It should be pouring rain, and the sky should be a dreary grey.  
  
Harry wondered if Hermione would show up. They*d dated for a bit after they graduated, but things didn*t work out between them. *Because I had to be the big hero,* Harry thought bitterly. Slicing a person in half, even the most evil wizard of all time, changed a man, and Hermione had a front row seat to his transformation. Harry didn*t blame her when she told him she wanted to end their relationship, but that didn*t stop him from kicking himself for it ever since. He wondered what she would do if she saw him. *Probably just ignore me,* Harry said aloud. The pain he*d felt right after Hermione dumped him came rushing back. In truth, it had never really left.  
  
Harry sank down to the ground and watched as a bird alighted on the tree in front of him. He tried to remember what Hermione had looked like, not the day she left, but the day of their graduation. She had been so happy then, they all had, and her happiness made her lovely. She glowed with an inner radiance and Harry couldn*t take his eyes off her. She had given a speech for being class valedictorian, but what she talked about in her speech Harry couldn*t say. He didn*t remember the words she spoke, but he remembered the way she smiled, and how he had thought that at that moment she was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen.  
  
After the ceremony, Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone to The Three Broomsticks and ordered butter beers and talked for hours. Ron and Hermione had been so full of life then. They were both so excited about the future and all its possibilities, possibilities that only Harry seemed to be dreading.  
  
Harry and Hermione were going to stay with the Weasley*s that night. Mr. Weasley arrived to take them back to the Burrow, and they had all stood up to follow him out when Harry had touched Hermione*s hand and asked to speak to her in private for a moment. She had given him a curious look, but she agreed. Harry steered her towards the back door, and Ron had grinned at him and given him the thumbs-up sign.  
  
It was there, behind The Three Broomsticks, that Harry had told Hermione how he had loved her ever since he saved her life in their sixth year. He was shocked when she said that she felt the same way. And it was there, behind the bar, that he had kissed her for the first time. He remembered how she had trembled when he leaned towards her, but that she had returned his kiss warmly.  
  
And Harry remembered how he had confided all of this to Ron later that night when they were both pretending to be asleep. Then Harry had said the thing that had been on his mind all the way back to the Burrow, ever since he kissed Hermione: *Are you okay with this? I mean, for a while I thought you fancied her.*  
  
Ron had been laying on his back on his bed across from Harry*s trundle. He stared up at the ceiling for a long time before he finally turned towards Harry and said, *She likes you, mate. She picked you.*  
  
Harry felt a tear rolling down his cheek, but he didn*t bother to wipe it away. Ron was always so damn noble. He had made Harry feel like crap sometimes. When Harry had told Ron that Ron laughed and chucked at pillow at Harry, and they didn*t bring up the topic for the rest of the night, for the rest of their friendship.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, wondering what would have happened if he had backed off. He and Hermione obviously weren*t meant to be together. Maybe Ron and Hermione were. Maybe he had unintentionally screwed up his best friend*s life. The thought that he might have made Ron miserable gave Harry a sick feeling inside.  
  
He remembered the bullet wound that was hidden by the suit. The Ministry was still trying to decide if Ron*s case was a homicide. Being shot was not a normal way for a wizard to go. They suspected that someone had broken into Ron*s apartment. He hadn*t been living in a pristine little town, after all. Quite the contrary. The Muggle police were conducting their own investigation, and they said someone had probably broken in, thinking the apartment was empty, and when they realized Ron was home they shot him. But they still weren*t sure. Harry vowed that if Ron*s death was ruled as a homicide he would personally see to it that the bastard who killed Ron died a slow and painful death.  
  
It could have been suicide, though Harry had no idea where Ron would get a pistol, or how he would know how to shoot it. Either way Harry knew he was to blame. If it was suicide, if Ron had taken his own life, it was because Harry had robbed him of true love. If it was a homicide, it wouldn*t have happened if Ron hadn*t been living in that awful city. He only lived there because there was no where else he could afford to live. His life had gone down the tubes ever since he*d left Hogwarts, and Harry knew that if Hermione had been with Ron she wouldn*t have let him live that way. She wouldn*t have let him, but he, Harry, had.  
  
Harry buried his face in his hands. He knew it was cliche, but he thought about how truly unfair life is. Ron didn*t deserve to die so young. Ron deserved to be happy, but he really had very little happiness in his life. Even when they were at Hogwarts and were the best of friends and had fun together, Harry couldn*t help but feel that others thought of Ron as his sidekick, if he at times thought of Ron as such. And Ron didn*t deserve that.  
  
Harry wept and didn*t care if someone saw him. He wept for everything that went wrong for Ron and had gone wrong in his own life. He wept for good times long gone, lost friendships, shattered dreams and for the fact that the sun was shining. 


	2. Face to Face

Author's Note: Another chapter! Isn't that exciting! :: hears crickets chriping :: Well, it*s a bit shorter than the other chapter, but the majority of it is from Hermione*s POV, which is fun for me to write. I've got bad news, though: My parents are forcing me against my will to go camping, so I'll be gone all weekend and probably won*t get a chance to update this until sometime next week. And thank you, qwert, for reviewing my story! Don't you feel special? Have a chocolate chip cookie.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Face to Face  
  
Hermione cast an anxious look at the clock. If she was going to go, she needed to leave now. Her hands shook as she opened her little clutch purse and took out her lipstick and tried to apply it. At last she gave up and threw the lipstick back into her purse in exasperation. Then she flung herself onto her bed and cried, letting out all the tears she had kept pent up inside ever since she received word that Ron was dead.  
  
After about ten minutes of good, hard crying, Hermione lifted her head and looked at her reflection in the mirror on her closet doors. *I look like crap,* she thought to herself. She rose and went over to the sink in the bathroom. Her mascara was running. Hermione cupped her hands together and brought the cold water up to her face. She did this several times, wiping off all her makeup, and then surveyed herself in the mirror again. She still thought she looked like crap, but at least this way no one would know that she had tried to make herself look presentable.  
  
Hermione grabbed her purse and walked out the door, locking it behind her. She went to the parking lot, got in her car and turned the key in the ignition. As she drove, she wondered what she should say to Harry when she saw him. Hermione knew he*d be there; Ron had been his best friend. She wondered if he would still smell so good, and if he still wore his hair the same way. It had always been so tousled, and when they were dating Hermione was constantly pushing his bangs away so she could see his eyes. She loved Harry*s eyes.  
  
*Stop it,* Hermione reprimanded herself. *You are not supposed to think about Harry*s eyes when Ron is dead.* The thought of Ron made her eyes water and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears from flowing. She knew Ron wouldn*t want her to be a sobbing mess, but she couldn*t help it. She pulled over her car and just let herself cry again, and when she was done she started up the car once more and continued to drive as though nothing had happened.  
  
***  
  
Harry dried his eyes and listened to the sounds of the city, trying to think about anything but Ron. He heard a car pull up, but he didn't move. He kicked a pebble on the ground and listened to the sound of someone sniffling and opening the front door. The door closed and Harry could hear a mumble of soft voices. The bird that had landed on the tree started to sing, and Harry contemplated throwing the pebble at it to make it shut up.  
  
He heard the back door open and the sound of high heels on the cement. Harry knew it was her, it had to be her, but still he kept his back turned to the door.  
  
The tapping of the heels stopped. For moment there was silence, and then Hermione said in her sweet voice, *Hi.*  
  
Hi. They hadn't seen each other for over a year and she says hi. Harry kept his back turned.  
  
*I hoped you would come,* she said.  
  
*Yeah,* Harry replied. More silence. Harry knew he had to face her, he had been gearing up for it ever since he arrived. But Hermione beat him to it. She walked in front of him and knelt down in her skirt on the pavement so they were at eye level.  
  
Hermione looked older. That was Harry*s first impression of her. He still thought she was beautiful, but the sadness in her eyes made her look as though she had aged about five years.  
  
Before Harry could say anything Hermione was crying. She didn*t have any tissues, or if she did she didn*t bother to take them out. Harry didn*t know what to do. He couldn*t just sit there and watch her bawl her eyes out. Besides, if she cried any longer she was going to make him start crying again, too, and that was the last thing Harry wanted.  
  
Harry couldn*t stop himself. He reached out and hugged Hermione, feeling her thin shoulders quaking and her salty tears falling on his own face and clothes. She didn't pull back: instead she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed even harder. Harry cried, too, holding her tightly and feeling both happy and sad. He didn*t even know why he was crying. It just seemed like the right thing to do in his confused state of mind.  
  
And so they held each other and they cried and the bird stopped singing.  
  
***  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley offered to let Hermione spend the night at the Burrow, but Hermione said no, she*d get lodging at a hotel nearby. She knew Harry was staying with the Weasley*s and she didn*t trust herself anymore, not after what had happened at the wake.  
  
Hermione rented a room at a Holiday Inn. It was a modest little room, but it had a television and working plumbing. The rest Hermione didn*t really care about.  
  
She kicked off her shoes as soon as she walked in the door. Hermione had bought a carton of ice cream on the way to the hotel. She turned on the TV and flopped onto the bed and started attacking the ice cream with her spoon.  
  
The television brought in all the local channels and most of the cable ones and yet there was still nothing good on. Hermione finally settled on a documentary about African wild life, which she normally would have found fascinating, but today seemed rather dull. Her thoughts drifted to Harry and how good it had felt to be in his arms. He had such strong, muscular arms and she always felt so safe when he held her. He*d hugged her like that when he saved her life in their sixth year, and that was the moment that Hermione realized that she loved him.  
  
And, for the first time that day, Hermione smiled. 


	3. Love Not Forgotten

Author*s Note: And you thought you had gotten rid of me! :: evil laugh :: Yes, I know, I said I wasn*t going to post again until at least next week, but I managed to sneak this chapter in. I'm going to try to finish it before next Sunday, because after that I*ll be gone for the rest of the summer and then . . . school! Ahhhhhh!  
  
Thanks sooooooo much to everyone who has written a review since I last updated: lilcrazy13, * (I like your name!), HrryPttrFreak87, Facade and Rachel A. Prongs. You are my new best friends! Have some oatmeal cookies!  
  
And now . . . on with the story.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Love Not Forgotten  
  
The funeral was miserable. They were outdoors and the sun was burning with such intensity that Hermione had to squint to be able to the other people properly. Instead she found herself looking at the ground, which was worse because then she could see Ron*s coffin. Though they were in the shade everyone was roasting in their black clothing. Some of the ladies had handkerchiefs out, which they used to wipe both tears and beads of perspiration from their faces.  
  
Everyone around her was crying, yet Hermione was not. She supposed that her crying jags yesterday had used up all her tears. Her pain was even deeper now. Everything she looked at reminded her of Ron and made her heart ache. When she look at the trunk of the tree under which she and the other mourners were standing, she remembered the time when Ron and Harry had nearly been killed by the Whomping Willow. She*d lectured them to cover how worried she had been. When she saw Mrs. Weasley sniffling under a tissue Hermione thought of the first Quidditch match in their sixth year. Ron had made a spectacular save but had gotten a bloody nose from a Bludger in the process. Still, he had been smiling as he raced over to Hermione after the game. Even when she looked at her own hands she remembered the time she*d been bitten by some strange beast in Care of Magical Creatures class and Ron had bandaged up her wound for her.  
  
Hermione stole a glance at Harry, who was standing beside her. She knew that however great her pain was, Harry*s must be a hundred times worse. She could tell that he was trying not to cry and her heart went out to him. Her motherly instincts told her that she should comfort someone when they were suffering, but at the same time her mind was telling her not to, not here, not in public. But the motherly instincts took over and she grasped Harry*s hand tightly and gave it a squeeze. He turned to her and he actually smiled and squeezed her hand in return.  
  
***  
  
They held hands for the rest of the service, and when it was over they both walked over to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was crying softly and Mr. Weasley*s face looked forlorn.  
  
Mr. Weasley, in a voice so quiet that Harry had to strain to hear him, thanked them both for coming. Mrs. Weasley pulled herself together enough to say a few words, but her voice was quaking and silent tears rolled down her cheeks.  
  
*Thank you both for being here,* Mrs. Weasley said. *It means so much to us.* Looking at Harry, she went on with, *You were his best friend. Your friendship was so important to him.* Then, her teary eyes fixed on Hermione, Mrs. Weasley said, *And you, my dear . . .* She paused, and reached up to lovingly push back a stray strand of Hermione*s hair. *He cared for you deeply.*  
  
Harry sucked in his breath as Mrs. Weasley spoke to Hermione. Was it true, then? Had he really made Ron unhappy by keeping Hermione from him? Harry felt wretched and as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone he started to cry.  
  
***  
  
Hermione dug around inside her purse for her tissues. She found them and handed them to Harry, who took them immediately. Hermione gazed up at Harry, her brown eyes full of sympathy, and thought that it just was*t right for someone as brave and strong as Harry to be sobbing like this. She had expected to be the weepy one, and that Harry would comfort her, and here she was, doing the opposite.  
  
Harry stopped crying and looked at Hermione. She smiled weakly and put a hand on his shoulder. *I know, I know,* was all she said.  
  
***  
  
Harry felt better just by looking at Hermione. It was true, after all. If there was anyone in the world who could understand how he felt, it was Hermione.  
  
For years to come Harry would ask himself why he did what he did next, and he never found an answer. He kissed Hermione softly on the lips, but he broke away from the kiss so quickly that it was more like a peck.  
  
The look on Hermione*s face was one of surprise. *What- what did you do that for?* she asked.  
  
Harry was silent. Finally he said, *I don*t know.*  
  
***  
  
Hermione*s heart was pounding. Harry had kissed her. He*d actually kissed her. She did*t know what to do. She stared at the blades of grass which were swaying in the sudden light breeze. Hermione knew he was watching her, waiting for her to speak, but she did*t know what to say.  
  
She felt Harry cup her chin in his hand and force her to look upward. *Hermione . . . * His voice trailed off. His brilliant green eyes, the eyes that Hermione loved so much, seemed to be staring into her very soul.  
  
Hermione was trembling. He was leaning towards her, his hand was on her waist; he was going to kiss her again. When his face was so close to hers that their noses were almost touching, she said in a calm voice, *Why did you kiss me?*  
  
Harry smiled in a bittersweet way. He kissed her on the forehead and whispered in her ear, *I guess I must love you or something.*  
  
Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. A single tear was rolling down her cheek, and Harry wiped it away with his thumb. *Don*t cry,* he said softly. *Please don*t cry.* But his pleading only made Hermione cry harder.  
  
*** Harry hadn*t expected this. He hadn*t expected Hermione to fall to pieces like this. *Don*t,* Harry begged again. *I can*t bear to see you cry.*  
  
Hermione obediently stopped. She stared up at him with an almost fearful look on her face. *Harry,* she said slowly, moving his hand which was on her waist back to his side, *I can*t do this. We can*t just start over and pretend nothing ever went wrong between us.*  
  
*We don*t have to start over,* Harry said. *We can learn from our mistakes.*  
  
Hermione didn*t look convinced. She cleared her throat and said in a painfully formal voice, *I was going to stop by the Weasley*s on my way out, but it*s getting late . . . I have to go . . . work, you know. Please tell them I*m sorry.*  
  
***  
  
Hermione touched Harry*s cheek. The more she looked at him the more she could feel her will weakening. *I have to go,* she told herself. *I have to go before he kisses me again and makes me want to stay.*  
  
She turned and started to walk away. At first she thought that Harry might come after her, but he didn*t.  
  
Hermione only dared to look back when she was at her car. Harry was standing beneath the tree, watching her. She quickly got into her car and fumbled around in her purse for the keys. When she found them she looked up again. Harry was still there. The sight of him standing there, alone, made Hermione*s eyes well up again. She cried for a bit and when she cast another glance at the tree Harry was gone. 


	4. Emotions

Author*s Note: Hehehehe! We*re not leaving for our camping trip till tomorrow! Happiness! Now I can update again!  
  
Man, I*m getting a wee bit obsessive here. Annywho, thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far: lilycrazy13, *, Lady Lightning, Hermione 512, Hermione Potter, apie, Rachel A. Prongs, BluLightning, ForeverPotterFan, HrryPttrFreak87, Facade and qwert. Gosh I like you people. Go on, have some of those really yummy cookies with MMs in them.  
  
I hope you like this chapter; its got a lot more dialouge than the first three did and it*s way more light hearted. I am a hopeless romantic, after all :-)  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Emotions  
  
Hermione stared down at her cup of hot chocolate. Ginny sat across from her, watching her friend anxiously. She took a sip of her own beverage, slammed it down on the table and said, *Hermione, when are you going to admit it?*  
  
Hermione looked up. *Admit what?*  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. *Come on, you know what I*m talking about.*  
  
Hermione shook her head sadly. *It was too fast,* she said, more to herself than to Ginny. *And we had no right to, not at . . .*  
  
Hermione didn*t finish her sentence. She cast a worried glance at Ginny, but Ginny didn*t seem affected at all. *At Ron*s funeral,* Ginny said. *It*s okay, you can say it.*  
  
Hermione was surprised, to say the least. Ginny must have sensed how shocked Hermione was, for she stated in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice, *Hermione, I knew him even better than you, and I know that he would want you to be happy. And Harry makes you happy.* She paused and then continued, in a quieter voice, *I loved Ron and so did you. You know he wouldn*t want you to be alone.*  
  
Hermione sighed. She looked at her watch and stood up. *Well, thanks for inviting me over,* she said. She put on her coat which she had hung on the back of her chair. *See you at work tomorrow?*  
  
*Yeah. Take care.*  
  
***  
  
A tiny golden ball flew past Harry*s left ear.  
  
*Harry!* Oliver shouted, pulling up beside him. *You could have gotten that one!*  
  
*Sorry,* Harry said. Oliver shook his head and speed off on his Firebolt360. Harry flew up several feet higher and continued to circle slowly around the arena, but his mind was on other matters.  
  
When practice was over and Harry was changing in the locker room, Wood approached him.  
  
*What*s with you?* he asked. *You had tons of opportunities to get the snitch and you missed it almost every time!*  
  
*I know,* Harry said, closing his locker door. *I*m sorry, I just could*t concentrate today.*  
  
*Is this about Ron?* Wood asked, his voice softening. *You know, if you need some more time off or something-*  
  
*I*m fine,* Harry interrupted.  
  
*No, you*re not,* Wood said. *I scheduled another practice for Friday. Why don*t you just skip it?*  
  
Harry stared at him. *Really?*  
  
*Yeah.*  
  
Harry was silent for a moment. Then he said, *Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.*  
  
Wood smiled and clapped Harry on the shoulder. *Well, I*m off. Take it easy.*  
  
*You too.*  
  
***  
  
Hermione made her way through the crowd of people to where Ginny was dancing. She tapped her on the shoulder and shouted in her ear, *I*m going home now.*  
  
*What?*  
  
Hermione grabbed Ginny*s arm and pulled her away from the blaring speakers. Then she said again, *I*m going home.*  
  
*Why?*  
  
*I*m tired.*  
  
Ginny wasn*t buying it. She looked over her shoulder at the clock. *Hermione, it*s not even ten yet!*  
  
*So?*  
  
*So stay for a while. Come one, live a little!*  
  
*I*m really tired, Ginny.*  
  
A boy with blonde hair walked over to Ginny and tugged at her arm. *Hey, Ginny, come dance with me!* he yelled.  
  
*In a minute,* Ginny called back to him. She turned to Hermione again and said, *Are you just going to Apparate?*  
  
*Too many Muggles in my building, I don*t want to risk it.*  
  
*Do you want the keys to my car then?*  
  
*No, I*ll just walk home. It*s not far.*  
  
*You sure?*  
  
*Yeah.*  
  
Ginny looked doubtful, but she shrugged and said, *Okay, if you say so. I*ll call you tomorrow.*  
  
*Alright. Bye.*  
  
*See ya.*  
  
Ginny went off in pursuit of the blonde boy, and Hermione thanked the hostess of the party and started off towards her apartment. The night air was warm, and Hermione strolled slowly, her jacket over her arm, enjoying the beauty of the evening.  
  
Hermione took the elevator up to the third floor and walked down the long hallway. She was going to open the door to her apartment, but someone was sitting in front of it.  
  
It was Harry.  
  
Hermione said the first thing that popped into her head: *How did you find out where I live?*  
  
*Ginny.*  
  
*Oh,* Hermione said, though in her head she was thinking, *I*m going to kill her.*  
  
Harry stood up. *Is it- I mean, should I come back some other time.*  
  
*Uh, no, now is- fine,* Hermione said slowly. *How long have you been waiting for me?*  
  
*I dunno. An hour, maybe.*  
  
*An hour?*  
  
*Yeah.*  
  
*Oh,* Hermione said again. She shifted her jacket from one arm to the other. She felt stupid talking to him in the hallway. *Do you- do you want to come in? For a soda, I mean.*  
  
*Yeah, sure. For a soda.*  
  
They went into Hermione*s apartment. Hermione turned the lights on and suddenly wished that she had picked up a little before she left. She opened her mini refrigerator and got out two Cokes and handed one of them to Harry. They sat on Hermione*s bed and drank the sodas in silence.  
  
Finally Harry asked, *Did you go out somewhere tonight?*  
  
*Yeah, one of my co-workers was throwing a party,* Hermione said. *Ginny*s still there, actually.*  
  
*So Ministry work is going well?*  
  
*Yeah. How*s Quidditch?*  
  
*Good.*  
  
Hermione drank a big gulp of soda. She had been looking at the wall in front of her, but now she turned to Harry and said, *Why*d you really come here, Harry?*  
  
Harry sighed. He set his soda on the coffee table and said, *Hermione, at Ron*s funeral-*  
  
*Don*t, Harry, please,* Hermione begged.  
  
*Why not?*  
  
*Just- don*t,* Hermione pleaded.  
  
*I want to. Hermione, at Ron*s funeral I said I loved you, and I meant it. That wasn*t some stunt to get you back. I*ve changed.*  
  
Hermione bit her lip and looked down at her hands. *Harry,* she said, *even if you*ve changed, how do you know that will make everything better? I*ve changed, too. I*m not the girl you dated back at Hogwarts.*  
  
*I know,* he said, touching her hands which were clenched tightly in her lap. *I want to get to know you all over again.*  
  
Hermione felt her eyes welling up. *No,* she said firmly. *I can*t. We*re better off this way.*  
  
Harry laughed softly. *Better off? We*re both miserable.*  
  
*I wasn*t. I was doing just fine.*  
  
*Were you happy?*  
  
*What?* She looked up at him.  
  
*I said were you happy.*  
  
Hermione was taken aback. *I was doing fine,* she said again.  
  
Harry smiled. *You don*t always have to be so brave, you know.*  
  
And then he kissed her.  
  
When it was over, Hermione shuddered. Harry arms were around her and she didn*t want him to pull away. But he did.  
  
*Hermione, I-* Harry stopped. His face was flushed. *Could you at least give me another chance?*  
  
Hermione didn*t say anything. Then, in a voice that was almost a whisper, she said, *Okay.*  
  
Harry*s face brightened. *Do you want to go out tomorrow night?*  
  
Hermione suddenly remembered an old saying, that there was *safety in numbers.*  
  
*Ginny*s going out with her boyfriend,* Hermione said. *Maybe we could double date?*  
  
*Sure.*  
  
*Okay. I*ll call Ginny.*  
  
Harry nodded. He stood up. *Well, I*ll see you then, I guess.*  
  
Hermione thought he might kiss her again, she wanted him to, but he just started walking towards the door. Hermione rose and cried, *Harry!*  
  
Harry*s hand was on the door knob. He looked back at her and said, *What?*  
  
Hermione just stared at him, unsure of what to say. *I*m pathetic, absolutely pathetic,* she thought to herself. In a slightly high-pitched voice she said, *Good night.*  
  
Harry grinned. *Good night, Hermione.* 


	5. The Date

Author's Note: I'm soooooo sorry that its taken me so long to get this chapter up. I just got back from Hawaii- I had a blast!- but I didn't have time to write much, and even if I could have we had no Internet access. But here it is, finally. The next chapter will be the last one, and it'll be very short- I may even finish and post it today. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! I'm happy to report that I have bought the Mrs. Field's Cookies chain, and I plan to continue buying cookie chains until I own all the world's cookies.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
The Date  
  
"What do you think?" Hermione asked, holding up two dresses. "The black one or the red one?"  
  
"Definitely the red one," Ginny said. "The black one looks so . . . old."  
  
"But the red one is too-" Hermione cut herself off.  
  
"Sexy?" Ginny finished for her. Hermione scowled and threw a box of tissues at her. Ginny caught it, laughing. Then she began to sneeze and found the tissues quite useful.  
  
"Seriously, Hermione," Ginny said, after blowing her nose, "it's time you stopped wearing all those ugly clothes."  
  
"Thanks, Ginny."  
  
"You're welcome. Come on, Hermione, we're not going to be young forever. Flaunt it."  
  
"I don't want Harry to think I'm trying to seduce him or something."  
  
"He won't. But even if he does, is that really such a bad thing?"  
  
Hermione laughed in spite of herself and turned to the mirror. She held both dresses up to herself and surveyed them. Then, somewhat reluctantly, she walked out of the bathroom and went to hang up the black dress.  
  
Seamus was sitting on her bed, playing GameBoy. "Hey, Monie," Seamus said without looking up at her. "Is Ginny being evil?"  
  
"No more so than usual," Hermione said, hanging the dress up. From the bathroom Ginny called, "I heard that!"  
  
A soft knock on the door brought their conversation to a halt. Hermione rushed back to the bathroom and cried to Ginny, "It's him!"  
  
"Of course it's him," Ginny said, irritating Hermione with her broad grin.  
  
"But he's early!"  
  
"Better early than late. Go on and get changed. Seamus and I will keep him occupied."  
  
"Be nice."  
  
Ginny left, and Hermione hastily shut the door behind her. She started changing into the red dress and listened as Ginny opened the door and greeted Harry. Hermione tried to zip up the zipper on the dress but she couldn't quite make it go up all the way. 'Crap,' she thought, trying to make it zip up for a third time. At last she gave up and decided to discreetly ask Ginny to zip it before they left.  
  
When Hermione was finally ready, she glanced over herself one last time in the mirror. She heard the others laughing and she looked apprehensively at the door. Hermione pinched her cheeks to give them a little more color, let out a deep breath and opened the door.  
  
Harry, Ginny and Seamus were standing around in a little circle. They all looked at Hermione as she came out of the bathroom.  
  
"Hermione," Harry said, looking slightly flustered, "you look beautiful."  
  
Hermione's face turned red. "Thanks," she said softly. "You look nice, too." And he did. Hermione noticed that Harry had tried to tame his wild hair a bit, and he wore a clean work shirt and dark pants. She looked at his handsome face and smiled shyly.  
  
As they were taking their jackets from Hermione's coat rack, Hermione turned to Ginny and asked in a whisper, "Hey, would you mind zipping up the back of my dress?"  
  
Ginny, seeing that Harry was standing behind Hermione, called over to him, "Hey, Harry, would you zip up Hermione's dress for her?"  
  
Hermione blushed, giving Ginny an angry look, but she blushed even more when Harry replied, "Sure." The touch of his warm hand on her bare skin made Hermione's heart pound.  
  
Ginny, looking very pleased with herself, said, "Come on you two."  
  
***  
  
"I've never been to a movie theater," Harry said the four of them found seats in the fifth row.  
  
"Really?" Hermione said.  
  
"Yeah. The Dursley's always made me go over to the neighbor's house whenever they went out to do anything remotely fun."  
  
"Bummer, man," Seamus said, taking a big handful of popcorn from the bag Ginny was holding.  
  
"I saw my first Muggle movie last summer," Ginny said loudly, getting curious stares from some of the other people in the theater. "Hermione took me and some of our co-workers to see 'Spider-Man.' Can you imagine if we had taken Ron with us? He would have hated it."  
  
Harry and the others laughed, then grew quiet. It was, for Harry at least, the first time someone had mentioned Ron without making him suddenly sad, which made him feel both happy and slightly guilty. The movie previews stared, and Harry watched them with interest. When the actual movie started, though, he realized that he and Seamus had been suckered into what he had heard referred to as a "chick flick."  
  
Harry cast a glance at Hermione. She appeared to be watching the movie, but she seemed distracted, as if their were other things she was thinking about. In the seat next to her was Ginny, who, Harry observed, wasn't even pretending to watch the movie. She and Seamus were holding hands and whispering together.  
  
Harry looked at Hermione again and gulped. It seemed so stupid; he had killed the most evil wizard of all time and yet he couldn't muster up the courage to tell the girl next to him how he felt about her. Sure, he'd told Hermione that he loved her, but the words "I love you" were so common nowadays that they seemed to have lost their meaning. Harry wasn't convinced that by saying those three little words that Hermione understood how deeply he cared for her, that he would die for her and he wanted to spent the rest of his life with her.  
  
Ginny was coughing. Harry turned his head in her direction and saw that Seamus was watching her with concern on his face. She stopped, but after a few moments she started coughing again. When she stopped again Seamus kissed her on the forehead.  
  
Following Seamus's lead, Harry decided to be bold and put his arm across Hermione's shoulders. He expected her to flinch, but she didn't. Instead she looked at Harry, smiled in a contented sort of way, and snuggled closer to him, or as close as she could in a seat with immovable cup holders. The movie passed much more quickly after that.  
  
***  
  
"Ginny doesn't feel well," Seamus explained. He, Hermione and Harry were standing outside the theater. Ginny and Seamus had gotten up during the movie, and when they hadn't come back for about fifteen minutes, Hermione and Harry had gone to see what was wrong.  
  
"Poor Ginny," Hermione said sympathetically.  
  
"Yeah, she's sitting in her car right now," Seamus said. "I'm going to take her home. Do you guys have some other way to get home?"  
  
"We'll manage," said Harry before Hermione had the chance to speak.  
  
"Okay," Seamus said, "see you guys later."  
  
Hermione waited until Seamus was out of hearing distance before turning on Harry and saying, "What do you mean, 'we'll manage?' I can't Apparate home."  
  
"I know," Harry said. "I wasn't thinking of Apparating."  
  
"What were you thinking of, then?"  
  
"I'll tell after the movie's over. If you want to go back, that is."  
  
Hermione smiled. "Were you actually enjoying it?"  
  
Harry returned Hermione's smile and gently stroked her cheek. "Parts of it."  
  
Hermione closed her eyes briefly, savoring Harry's touch. When she opened her them Harry was watching her with those captivating eyes. 'Lovely eyes,' Hermione thought dreamily.  
  
"Let's get out of here," Harry said quietly. Hermione nodded.  
  
Harry checked to make sure that no Muggles were walking up to the theater, then he took his wand out and muttered something under his breath that Hermione couldn't hear. Nothing happened.  
  
"Harry, are you sure that spell worked?" Hermione asked.  
  
"It worked," Harry said, pocketing his wand. "But it's going to take a minute."  
  
Hermione gave him a puzzled look, but Harry just grinned and grabbed Hermione's hand. "Come on," he said. "Just trust me."  
  
Harry led Hermione behind the theater. This reminded Hermione of something, and it wasn't until Harry had taken her in his arms that she realized what it was. The last time she and Harry had been behind a building together they had declared their love for each other. Hermione gazed up at Harry, feeling hopeful but at the same time a bit fearful, fearful that Harry would say that he loved her, fearful of the silence that would follow.  
  
"Hermione," Harry said. If he meant to say more, he didn't get around to it, for the next moment they were kissing, kissing so passionately that it took Hermione's breath away. When the kissing ended they kept their arms locked around each other and Harry whispered to Hermione the very thing she had hadn't wanted him to say.  
  
Thankfully, Hermione was spared having to think of a response, for at that moment the leaves of a nearby tree rustled, though there was no breeze that night. This seemed to mean something to Harry, for he smiled and said, "Remember the spell I said?"  
  
"I remember wondering what it was," Hermione said, watching Harry with interest.  
  
"I still think of it as 'our' charm," Harry said. "You helped me learn it to perfection."  
  
Hermione's hands, which had been resting on Harry's broad shoulders, dropped to her side. "Harry," she said, her shock very evident in her voice, "you did a Summoning Charm?" "Yep," Harry said, grinning in an almost mischievous way. He reached out his hand and clutched what seemed to be just air, but when his fingers locked around the "air" a magnificent broom appeared.  
  
Hermione nearly jumped back in surprise. "Harry," she said slowly, "when you said you had a way for us to get home, you didn't mean-"  
  
"Yeah," Harry interupted. Hermione was irrated by the amused expression on his face. "We're riding home in style. This is a Firebolt360, just look at the handle, pure-"  
  
"Harry!" Hermione snapped. "I haven't grown more fond of Quidditch since we left Hogwarts. There's no way I'm riding home on that thing! If I never had to ride on one again I'd be relieved. They're so dangerous, I can't believe you actually-"  
  
Hermione's potentially long rant was cut off, for Harry leaned towards forward and kissed her, lightly but effictively. He took her face in his hands and said softly, "Trust me."  
  
Hermione cast a nervous glance at the broomstick, but when she looked at Harry her eyes softened and she said, "Okay."  
  
Harry mounted the broomstick, and a hesitant Hermione followed. She was wondering how to hold on when Harry answered her unasked question, saying, "You'll have to hold onto my waist."  
  
Hermione nodded and wrapped her arms around him. She swore that she felt Harry's body stiffen, but the next second they were up in the air and all Hermione could think of was holding on. They flew up high so as not to be spotted. Harry pointed out buildings and areas like a tourguide, though Hermione didn't dare look where he was pointing. Only when Harry said, "And there's the cemetary," did she force herself to look downward.  
  
"We should stop there, shouldn't we?" Harry said.  
  
"Yeah," Hermione agreed, though she didn't really want to. Everything was going so well, and she knew that the sight of Ron's grave would depress her. Still, she felt compelled to stop out of devotion to Ron. And Harry would be there to comfort her.  
  
Harry landed the broom directly in front of Ron's tombstone. They dismounted and stood looking at the stone in silence. Finally, Hermione said in a quiet voice, "I miss him."  
  
"Me too," Harry replied. He reached out for Hermione's hand and held it.  
  
After another period of silence, Harry turned to Hermione and said bluntly, "Did you like Ron?"  
  
Hermione, who had been looking sadly at the tombstone, stared up at Harry. "Of course I liked him."  
  
"Yeah, I know he was your friend and everything, but . . . did you really like him?"  
  
Hermione, suddenly realizing what Harry was asking, smiled weakly and put both her hands in his. "I loved him like a brother," she said. "I know how much he cared for me, and I cared for him, too. But I like you, Harry. I chose you."  
  
Hermione didn't know why, but after she said those words Harry looked up at the sky for a long time, then turned back to Hermione and grinned.  
  
"So you like me, huh?" Harry said, in an almost teasing voice. "You just like me?"  
  
Hermione sighed. She knew he'd do this to her. Her eyes fixed on the ground, Hermione said, "I can't forget what happened overnight, Harry. Its been haunting me ever since we broke up. I still remember the arguing, the broken dishes, the cold shoulders and the-" She paused and looked at him briefly and their eyes met. Then she looked back down and said, "And the physical and verbal abuse."  
  
They were both quiet, and Hermione knew they were remembering the same thing: the time Harry, in a rage, had shoved Hermione so hard that she lost her balance and fell. She had dumped him the next day.  
  
"But I've changed, Hermione," Harry said. He sounded like he was pleading. "I know I have."  
  
"So you've said," Hermione replied. She knew she sounded cold, but she couldn't help it. All the pain she had felt during their relationship and after it, all the pain she had tried so hard to keep inside, was fighting to get out. It was tempting to just let herself cry in Harry's arms, to cry and then forget. But it wasn't that simple.  
  
Hermione looked up at Harry again. 'Or maybe it is,' she thought to herself.  
  
And then Harry was hugging her, and all the bad memories were erased. It was as though they had never had a single fight, never broken up. They were still together, and they comforted each other over the loss of their friend. Every fiber of Hermione's being wished that it was so, and the longer Harry's arms were wrapped around her, the more she had to remind herself of all that had happened.  
  
Harry let go of Hermione. The air was cold outside his embrace. Harry kissed her, a soft kiss on the cheek that left Hermione more breathless than the passionate kissing.  
  
The slight breeze that had been blowing suddenly turned into a sharp wind. It was like an omen to Hermione. She was too sensible to put much faith in signs, but this one was to poignant to miss. She felt confused and lost, but mostly she just felt exhausted.  
  
"Will you take me home now?" Hermione asked. "I'm tired."  
  
Harry sighed softly, looking down at his feet. "Sure," he muttered.  
  
***  
  
Harry walked Hermione up to her apartment. Her small hand was tightly clutching his broad one, which was oddly comforting to Harry. She kept stealing little glances up at Harry, as though she were afraid to look at him for too long. Harry never took his eyes off of her.  
  
When they arrived at her door, Harry kissed Hermione's hand and said good night. He was about to leave when he felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder, gently holding him back. Harry turned around and Hermione kissed him, a long full kiss. Once it was over they looked at each other as though unsure of who was supposed to make the next move. Harry knew that he wanted to kiss her, and he hoped that she wanted to kiss him. But after a few seconds had trickled by, Harry gave Hermione one last hug and turned to leave again.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione called. Harry stopped and turned around once more. She looked so beautiful in the dim light, but Harry held back.  
  
"What?" he asked, telling himself that he was being stupid as he said it.  
  
Hermione took a step towards him. "I need to take it slow," she said simply.  
  
Slow. He wasn't being slow enough? But Harry just nodded. "I understand," he said. Then, without thinking, he blurted, "I'll keep loving you for as long as it takes."  
  
"And you'll always be close to me," Hermione said. Harry nodded again, but in his mind he thought, 'She didn't say that she loved me.'  
  
As if she could read his thoughts, Hermione said, "If I ever tell you that I love you, you'll know I really mean it. It's not a phrase I use lightly."  
  
Harry smiled. "Me neither."  
  
They stared at each other for a moment. Then Hermione said quietly, "Well, good night."  
  
"Yeah. Good night." 


	6. THE END!

To anyone who reads this… yes, it has been almost two years since I first started writing this. Explanation? Um, I was lazy. Crappy excuse, I know, but in my defense I started high school and I've been very busy. So here is the last part of my story, finally.

(I just wanted to say that I hadn't seen the movie One Fine Day when I wrote this, and the fact that the endings are really similar is purely coincidental.)

Epilogue

6 months later….

"Hermione?"

'darn it,' Hermione thought. She hastily wrapped a towel around herself and walked out of the bathroom to meet Harry.

Hermione cautiously opened the door. Harry was standing in the hall, looking very handsome yet awkward and holding a bouquet of flowers.

"You're early," Hermione said with a smile.

"Oh… uh, sorry," Harry replied. "I didn't mean to… I mean, you didn't have to…" His voice trailed off, and he refused to meet Hermione's eyes.

'He's too cute,' Hermione thought. She grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him into her apartment. "Don't be embarrassed, Harry," she said. "Just give me a few minutes."

Once Harry was comfortably settled on the couch, Hermione rushed back into the bathroom. She was so nervous that her hands shook as she tried to apply makeup. Hermione wanted to look her best tonight, the night she had decided to tell Harry that she loved him.

When Hermione finally emerged from the bathroom, Harry was completely sprawled out on the couch, his head and feet dangling over the edges.

"Come on, couch potato, I'm ready," Hermione said as she approached the couch from behind.

Harry did not respond. Hermione repeated herself in a louder voice, but still Harry remained motionless.

"Harry, we're going to lose our reservation!" Hermione exclaimed. She walked around to the other side of the couch and discovered that…

Harry was fast asleep.

Hermione laughed softly. She kicked off her high heels and gently laid herself down next to Harry. As she curled up against his warm body, she felt so complete, so happy, that she whispered in Harry's ear, "I love you."

Harry did not reply, but Hermione swore she saw a tiny smile on his lips. With a satisfied sigh, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, secure in the arms of the man she loved.

THE END


End file.
